


Sextapes and Shenanigans

by WickedNerdAngel



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jensen Ackles, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Teasing, Top Misha Collins, Twitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 00:30:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13259820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedNerdAngel/pseuds/WickedNerdAngel
Summary: “I'm having sex with Tapeball,” Misha replies matter-of-factly, like that's something you say every day, like that's not the weirdest statement ever. That's when Jensen notices said Tapeball also tossed onto his bed and, frankly, looking smug.





	1. Take My Picture

**Author's Note:**

> In which Jensen just wants to relax after a long day, but changes his tune after being coaxed to take the most ridiculous picture he's ever taken. 
> 
> I wrote this a while ago, but apparently I'm extra lazy (or just a smidge busy, lol) and am just now posting. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> This is a work of fictional. No disrespect intended to any of the characters depicted or mentioned. (I just like to envision these two idiots have better sex than anyone ever.)

Sex, Tapes, and Shenanigans

By WickedNerdAngel

Inspired by this ridiculous picture:

 

“Jens, come’re, I need you to take this picture.”

“Mmhm,” Jensen mutters in response, not yet taking his eyes off the dailies he's reviewing. It was a rough shoot day. Bunch of emotional shit, and even though he's still technically working, he really just needs to relax in his favorite chair - one that _someone_ seems to think is now theirs - and have a damn drink. So that's exactly what he's doing.

“Jackles!”

Jensen jumps, startled, almost spilling his well-aged, two fingers of apple juice as he's lovingly come to refer to his whiskey. _Thank you, Rome, and all that you entail._

“What? Jesus Christ, Mish, alright fine! What am I taking a pic--” He stops as he turns and takes in the ridiculous scene before him… Misha loosening the tie around his neck; Misha unbuttoning his white shirt; Misha- hair in absolute debauchery, just the way it looks after they... nevermind; Misha with rainbow colored tape stuck - just - everywhere: on his face, his bare chest, all over Cas’ suit. This maniac even has tape hanging out of his mouth for Christ’s sake. His character's trench coat lays haphazardly on _Jensen's_ bed, and Misha is crawling on top of it, which is a sight that Jensen thoroughly, shamelessly, takes in.

“Misha, what the _hell_ are you doing?”

“I'm having sex with Tapeball,” Misha replies matter-of-factly, like that's something you say every day, like that's _not_ the weirdest statement ever. That's when Jensen notices said Tapeball also tossed onto his bed and, frankly, looking smug.

“You're wha-- uh, come again?”

Misha sighs, exasperated, as if what he just said isn't the most bizarre thing to come outta someone's, anyone's, mouth. “I am. Having. Sex. With. Tapeball. Now shut up and come here, I need you.”

“Hmmm, it's not like I haven't heard _that_ before.” Jensen chuckles under his breath.

“Jensen, I swear to... whoever's listening…”

“Now you sound like Cas,” Jensen replies slyly, wiggling his eyebrows, “say it in his voice.” Misha's proceeding glare, however, is loud and clear. Jensen clears his throat before rolling his eyes. “Okay _fine_. Where do you want me?”

Misha hops back off the bed, manhandles Jensen into place - which Jensen doesn't mind too much, if he's being totally honest (still, he lets out an annoyed huff for good measure, which Misha pointedly ignores) - puts his phone in Jensen's hand, checks the camera angle, and slowly crawls back on the bed. _He does that shit on purpose,_ Jensen decides, and now, of course, he's half hard in his jeans. _God_ , he loves this asshole.

Jensen takes a few pictures so Misha can pick his favorite, biting back a very manly giggle at just how fucking ludicrous this - and Misha for that matter - is. When the clicking is finished, Misha jumps up again, snatches the phone out of Jensen's hand and proceeds to laugh - loud - throwing his head back in his enthusiasm. Jensen decides he wants to nibble on that throat and goddamn if he doesn't grow a little harder at the thought.

“So, we good?” Jensen asks, reaching for the phone to turn it off and get down to business. It's getting close to dinner time, his stomach’s been growling for almost an hour now, but he just doesn't give a shit. He's hungry for something else at the moment, and that needs satiated before anything else, thank you very much.

“Hang on…” Misha spins away from him, still laughing. “This is fucking fantastic! Vick’s gonna laugh so hard when she sees this. I gotta post it right now.”

“No!” He blurts, realizing too late that he's actually yelling it. Misha looks at him sharply, frowns and holds the phone as far as he can away from Jensen. “Mish, come on, man. Let's...do something else. Post it in the morning.” He also realizes too late that his voice is bordering dangerously close to whining, so he clears his throat again and puts on his best 'grumpy Ackles’ face as they apparently call it on Twitter. Misha's expression immediately turns to one thousand percent smart-ass-incoming.

“Oh really? Like do what? Have dinner?” This fucker’s eyebrows have climbed clear up to his hairline, as if challenging Jensen to _actually_ say 'yes, let's have dinner.’ He knows what he's doing.

“Well, we can do that.. later. It's too early for dinner,” Jensen lies, sheepishly.

“But Jens, it's very important that I post this magnificent photograph to,” he holds up his pinky finger, “Twitter…” then his ring finger, “Instagram…” finally holding up his middle finger, “and Facebook.” He mock-gasps, sapphire eyes wide, mouth in an 'o’ that Jensen suddenly can't take his eyes off of. “You know what? I should totally Facebook live myself posting this to Facebook!” His grin is absolutely devious, and _that_ is all it takes to make Jensen crack. There is no way...in hell...that they're not having sex within the next five minutes. No. Fucking. Way.

“Listen up, Dmitri. There will be no time for posting on social media tonight!” Now Misha's feigning discontent, pushing his bottom lip out like he's a petulant child, but this doesn't deter Jensen in the least. Instead, he levels Misha with a predatory stare and practically growls. “Because I'm about to strip every last stitch of clothing off that body of yours and throw your ass back on my bed, capisce?”

Misha licks his plump lips. Those ridiculous blue eyes of his dart down to Jensen's and back up before a devilish smile takes over. “I dunno...I think I might have just enough time to post it-- _what the fuck?”_

That's about the time Jensen tackles him from behind, reaching his long arms over Misha's shoulders to grab at the offending mass of plastic and metal. “Gimme the fucking thing, Misha Collins!” He seems to have forgotten, albeit briefly, that Misha fucking Collins is just as athletic as he is, and could probably hold an elephant on his back without breaking a sweat. This little factoid turns him on even more, and he knows without a doubt, that Misha can feel it because he stands up abruptly, making Jensen stumble a bit, and turns around in his arms to face him. Misha's lips are less than a millimeter from Jensen's, and Jensen stifles a whimper. Even with tape hanging off his lip, Jensen wants to suck it between his.

“You know I love it when you get all bossy Dean with me,” he practically fucking purrs, lips barely grazing Jensen's.

Jensen presses his forehead into Misha's and quietly groans, his tone clearly not masking the want he's feeling. “You and Dee both, Jesus Christ.”  

“Well, Dani and I have excellent taste, baby,” Misha says, his voice as smooth and rich as that well-aged whiskey. And sexy as fuck. Jensen reaches around and palms Misha's perfect ass, thoroughly enjoying the sharp intake of breath he gets in return. _Yeah, take that, fucker._ “One thing, though,” Misha whispers.

“What's that?”

And then Misha's voice suddenly turns to full-on whining child. “Can I _please_ at least text it to Vick? And Dani too? They'll entertain themselves for hours making fun of me. _Pleeeaaase?”_

Jensen rolls his emerald eyes...a little darker at the moment, Misha notices, hedging ironically on hunter green. “Fine. Hurry up. And tell them not to call for, like, an hour. Ya know, because we may not be close to the phone...and tell them we love ‘em!”

“You got it, Winchester,” Misha quips, pulling slightly away and grinning as he holds up his phone.

“Oh shut it, Angel. Hurry the fuck up.” This earns him a heartfelt middle finger from _Dmitri_ , who then begins to type furiously on his phone. Finally, he giggles that dorky, low pitched giggle of his and turns the phone so Jensen can see what he wrote.

**Group text:  My Queen; Dackles** **< Yes, Jensen took the pic. Yes, he thinks I'm an idiot. Posting it tomorrow. Enjoy making fun of me, but don't call. We'll be busy...for a while. We both love you both!>**

“Perfect.” Jensen grabs the phone and immediately turns it off.

“Aww, Jens, dontcha wanna see what they say back?” He's smiling like the Cheshire cat. He knows the answer to that question.

“Later. Right now I think you need some help getting that tape off. Christ you look like a dog with that one hanging outta your mouth.”

“Oh you think I need help, do you?”

Jensen nods.

“You think I can't do this myself, huh?”

Jensen shakes his head. All the while marching slowly forward as Misha backs up until his knees hit the bed. He crawls backward, over the green & gold comforter in disarray, over Castiel's trenchcoat, and mutters a quick apology to Tapeball - which makes Jensen chuckle - before tossing it off the bed. Jensen hovers over Misha, tape still clinging to his skin and other precarious areas, and inventories him with a critical eye. Misha squirms a little.

“Okay, just pull them off quickly. I'd rather this be more pleasurable than painful.”

“Of course, Mish.” Jensen's voice is pure sex, and Misha feels himself getting uncomfortably hard at the sound of it. Jensen starts with the pieces stuck in Misha's hair, pulling them off quickly, true to his word, and massaging his fingers into Misha's scalp as the dark haired man curses under his breath. “I'm sorry, babe, but you know you did this to yourself.”

“Yeah, whatever, so I didn't think it through.”

“Clearly.”

“Fuck you, Ackles.”

“Well that is the plan, yes.” Jensen laughs quietly and, before he gets punched, moves on to the tape stuck on Misha's ear. He pulls it off torturously slowly. Misha growls in pain, but Jensen quickly replaces the tape with his mouth, sucking the shell of Misha's ear between his lips, licking along the inside of it. Misha groans, a slight shiver claims him, and Jensen smiles to himself.

“You better fucking do that every time, you

ass.”

“Yes Sir,” Jensen whispers directly into Misha's ear.

“Fuck.” Misha reaches down to get a tight grip on Jensen's ass. Jensen hisses, but focuses his attention on the tape attached to Misha's cheek, followed by the one in his forehead. He places open-mouthed kisses on each area to quell the burn after removing them. Misha's taken to kneading Jensen's ass cheeks, and it's all Jensen can do _not_ to grind into him. No, this is about going slow. Painstakingly slow, and savoring every little whimper, groan and hiss spilling from Misha's gorgeous fucking mouth.

The last strip of tape on Misha's face is the one dangling off his lip split at the bottom like a forked tongue. He tells Misha it looks like the devil's tongue, to which Misha chortles and says, “Well I have had Lucifer inside me once. Sort of waiting on a hunter to get inside me next.”

“I don't think Sam's interested in you that way, angel,” Jensen says, licking where he's just pulled the tape off, and sucking Misha's lip between his own. He tugs with his teeth before letting go, but Misha grips the back of Jensen's neck, angles his head and crashes his lips to Jensen's. He licks into Jensen's mouth, earning the most delicious sounding moan ever known to man.

“Maybe,” Misha says as he pulls away, “but everybody knows Dean's had the angel inside him plenty of times.

_"What?”_ Jensen draws back to face off with Misha because _what the fuck?_ “Everybody does _not_ know that. I think the general consensus is that Dean's inside the angel more often than not.”

Misha cups Jensen's rapidly reddening face. “Oh you poor, uninformed soul,” he chides. “Have you not heard of the dom brow? ‘Cas tops/Dean bottoms’ is the actual general consensus, tough guy.”

“I can't believe what I'm hearing,” Jensen muses aloud, “and I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you right now. Although,” he half grins with his realization, “did I just hear you say you want me to fuck you, Dmitri?”

“Maybe,” Misha leans up, ghosting his lips over Jensen's and whispering,”but I think you like me fucking you more.”

“I can't argue with that,” Jensen replies. “But enough of this. I have more tape to get you off with.”

Misha grins, because _yes_ , less talking, more getting him off. Perfect ideas are fucking perfect.

Jensen rips the strip of tape off Misha's neck, licking and sucking in its wake. He loosens Cas’ tie and slides it over Misha's head. Misha’s practically vibrating as Jensen nibbles his way down the center of his chest, stopping briefly to circle his tongue around the man's taut nipples - earning him a deep, rattling, Cas-style groan - to the tape just under his sternum. “You taste so fucking good, Mish.” Sharp breaths are all he hears in return.

Jensen  notices a piece of tape on Misha's left hand. He uses his teeth on that one, quickly licking and sucking the tender skin before sucking each of Misha's fingers into his mouth. Misha moans, loud, and fists Jensen's gray Zeppelin t-shirt, pulling until Jensen complies and allows himself to be pulled up to Misha's awaiting mouth.

Teeth nearly clatter as the kiss is fierce, unrelenting; tongues swirling and licking as Misha's strong arms press Jensen flat against him and hips piston voraciously.

“Fuck, Mish,” Jensen's whisper is strained, “I need you so much right now… but I'm not done.” Reluctantly, and to Misha's garbled sound of protest, Jensen pulls from Misha's grasp and slides back down his body. He can feel Misha's long, hard cock sheathed unfortunately by two layers of clothing, feels the beginning of precome seeping out of his own at the thought of being impaled, envisioning Misha rocking into him. He unbuttons the rest of his shirt, plunging his tongue into Misha's navel, pulling at the waistband of his blue slacks with his teeth before mouthing at the outline of his cock through them.

_“Fuck, Jensen!_ You torturous prick!” Misha growls, all but writhing beneath him, clutching at the short hairs on the back of Jensen's head with one hand, fisting the comforter with the other.

“Sorry, babe,” Jensen smiles against the fly and nips once more for good measure, reveling in the sound of Misha's quiet stream of 'fuck’s. “There's one more piece I'm interested in.”

“I think you're exactly where you need to fucking be, Jackles. _Holy fuck!”_ Misha hears and feels the tape rip off his pant leg. He feels teeth on his inner thigh and god-fucking-damn it, it's good. It's so good. He lifts himself up and looks down, watching Jensen go to town nibbling his thigh. Just the sight of it is almost enough to make him combust. He reaches down, tugging on Jensen's arms until green eyes - pupils completely blown with lust - are staring back at him. “Come're,” he begs, his voice Castiel-like in its gruff. Jensen doesn't hesitate. He's above Misha in a second, pressed into him, staring him down. Misha pistons his hips again.

_“Fuck.”_ It's barely audible because Jensen can't fucking breathe, but he dives into Misha, kissing, nipping at his lips, tugging on them with his teeth, licking into his mouth, feeling Misha's cock rub against his as Misha's hands trap his ass in place and he thrusts into Jensen …

_Fuck… fuck... fuck… yes… too many clothes._

Misha pushes up until they're both sitting: Jensen straddling him, lips still attached to Misha's, friction so much better as Jensen grinds into him. Misha whimpers, tugging on Jensen's shirt until it's off of him, tossed

to...who cares where, and immediately plants his lips on the tight cords of Jensen's neck. Jensen tips his head, giving Misha all the access he needs, Misha gliding his lips down, biting at Jensen's exposed shoulder and chest. Jensen sighs, his fingers buried in Misha's already wrecked hair while Misha travels back up, lips taking purchase on Jensen's Adam's Apple, sucking. When he's satisfied with Jensen's quiet moans of _'Mish... Mish,’_ he digs into Jensen's razor sharp jaw, sliding his long fingers from the back of his boyfriend's waistband to the front, dipping them deep inside, wetting them on the precome leaking from Jensen's cock.

Jensen moans, all but ripping Misha's shirt off and diving into his neck with fervor. _“Mish,_ baby I need you. _Right now_. I fucking need you.”

“You have me, Jens, always. You have me,” Misha replies softly, fingers making quick work of Jensen's button and zipper, hands pushing the denim down until the quivering man in front of him removes them, boxer briefs gone as well over the side of the bed.

Jensen's thick, engorged cock rests heavy against Misha's belly, and Misha immediately wraps his hand around it, pumping once. Jensen gasps, and Misha's on his back before he even has time to react, hand still wrapped around Jensen until it's pulled out of his grasp. He whines in protest, but has little time to dwell on it as Jensen is swiftly removing Misha's pants and underwear, tossing them to the side and promptly swallows Misha into the back of his throat.

_“Mother of fuck,_ Jens, _Jesus_ you're good at that!” His hands fly to Jensen head, locking him in place while he fucks into his mouth. The vibration of Jensen's moans are only driving him on, and that tongue, swirling the tip, drawing a line along the thick outer vein, lapping up Misha's precome, is one of the most talented tongues he's ever experienced. Misha prides himself on unraveling Jensen with his own talented tongue, but the sounds Jensen's pulling from Misha's throat are otherworldly... fucker always knows what he's doing.

“Are you trying to get me to come so you can fuck me, Jensen?” He knows the answer to this. Jensen might say he wants to be inside Misha, and someday, when he's ready, Misha will be all for it, but he knows Jensen likes him inside that tight ass entirely too much. He lets out a guttural moan as Jensen sucks him down deeper, licking all the way to the tip before popping his perfect, swollen lips off. Misha pulls Jensen up against him again. He wraps his hand around both their cocks, holds them together, and begins rocking his hips up and down slowly.

Jensen cries out, burying his face in Misha's neck, breathing him in. Breathing cinnamon, sunshine, a little sweat and just... fucking...Misha. He could stay here all day, just smelling this beautiful motherfucker, but he's driving Jensen to the brink, and he needs more.

“Mish…” he gasps against  Misha's jaw with another thrust, “Misha...baby I need... _fuck_ , I need…” clearly he can no longer form coherent sentences.

Misha cuts off those stunted words with a searing fucking kiss. If Jensen couldn't talk before, he sure as hell can't now. “What do you need, Jens? Talk to me.” Jensen just whimpers in return. Misha slides his palms around Jensen's bare ass and slips his fingers inside, just grazing his puckered, sensitive skin. Jensen cries out. “Is this what you want?”

Jensen nods furiously. _“Yes. More.”_

“You want more of my fingers?” He gasps a little as Jensen grinds their cocks together.

_“Yes! Fuck... more, Mish.”_

“What else do you want, Jensen?”

Jensen lifts up, glaring at the colossal smart ass beneath him. “I'm gonna kill you. You know what I want.”

“Mmmmm, what's that?” Misha presses the pads of his fingers harder against Jensen's hole.

Jensen growls, but his breaths are sharp, shallow. _“I. Want. Your. Dick._ Wanna ride you. Stop fucking with me, Dmitri.”

“Ah, but do you deserve my dick?” Misha grins, devious. He's sick and twisted and loves it when he wrecks Jensen like this by barely touching him. Before Jensen's beautiful mouth can argue, Misha flips them over and pushes the man's knees up toward his chest. He licks along Jensen's cock, so hard it's now risen like a flag on a pole, mouths at his balls, popping them out of his mouth, and plunges his ridiculously long tongue directly into Jensen's hole. He's feels hands slam into the mattress on either side of them and smiles, pushing his tongue in and out.

“Misha! Oh God, _fuck,_ oh God, need you to fill me. Please... fucking… _please.”_

Misha pulls away, reaching for the exact drawer he knows the Astroglide is in, and pulls it out. He rolls over onto his back. “Get on top of me, baby” he orders. Jensen complies with no more instruction, straddling Misha's hips, spreading his legs apart. He's practically buzzing with anticipation, his cock leaking incessantly now. His eyes glaze over as he watches Misha squeeze a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. He bites back a moan as Misha lubes up his own cock first, followed by more lube and finally, fucking finally, sees Misha's hands disappear behind him. He drops his head to Misha's neck with a long, low moan as he feels those incredible fingers breach him, one working in an out, then two, in and out, grazing his prostate, making him shudder. And finally three, twisting and working him wide open, readying him to be filled completely, all while Misha peppers kisses along his hairline, his cheek, nudging him until he can capture his lips in a deep, sensual kiss.

“Are you ready?” Misha whispers against his lips.

Jensen kisses him once more, pressing his forehead against Misha's to break the kiss, just breathing for a second. “Yes,” he says on his exhale, “yes, you know I'm ready.”

Misha helps lift Jensen's hips a little, lines himself up, and pulls gently to give Jensen the go ahead. But there's nothing ginger about this. Jensen's done this so many times before. He doesn't need to ease onto Misha, so he doesn't. Misha's cock is sheathed by him in less than a second. They both cry out in pleasure before stopping briefly to catch their breath.

Misha's hands are immediately framed around Jensen's hips, gripping, fingers digging into flesh, holding him in place. “Mmmmm, Mish,” Jensen whines. He wants to... _needs to_ move, to grind, to-- Mish shushes him and, without a word, lifts him just enough to start fucking up into him mercilessly.

_“Jesus fucking - Jesus Christ, fuck Misha,”_ Jensen chants this mantra, Misha's name repeatedly tumbling off his tongue like a prayer, bracing his hands on Misha's shoulders, his head dropping between his own.

Misha's muscles work overtime. His arms are burning, his legs are on fire, but he doesn't give a shit, because it's good. It's so fucking good, and he plans to make Jensen completely unravel either on top of him, or underneath him... wherever the story takes them. He moans and clenches his teeth tightly when Jensen shifts a little, because he's not coming right now, _he is not coming right now._ He lets go of Jen's hips and slides his hands up his side and back, scraping his nails as he goes, eliciting a new, yet quiet string of curse words that just inspires Misha keep going, to thank Jesus, the apostles, Zeus, and whoever the fuck might be listening...for his life. Misha tilts his hips forward, just enough to hit the spot he knows will completely wreck Jensen. But, of course, Misha Collins doesn't just let someone come when they want to. He smiles to himself as the words _Dom-brow_ come to mind.

" _FUCK!”_ Misha practically shrieks as his apparent dominance is overshadowed by Jensen's incredibly strong arms lifting Misha until they're both sitting, Jensen straddling, Misha buried even deeper inside, and now they're staring at each other. “You feel so good on my cock, baby,” Misha whispers, but it's low and gravelly, and Jensen lolls his head back with a groan.

“I just… I fucking need your lips, Mish. Now.”

Conversation is stifled for a while; replaced by punctuated breaths, moans, smacks of lips against hot, sweaty skin, the sound of slapping skin on skin as Jensen rides Misha up and down at a feverish pace. Misha bites down on Jensen's shoulder more than once to quell his own orgasm, but he can tell that Jensen's close. Too close when his movements start to falter, his hips stutter, he reaches his hand down to  wrap around his own cock, and he begins his chanting of, _“Mish… Mish… Mish,”_ between breaths. It's the mantra of 'oh, hey, Jensen's getting ready to come,’ and Misha isn't having it. Not yet.

Without warning, Misha slaps Jensen's had away, circles his arm around Jensen's waist and slams him on his back on the bed. He hovers over Jensen, cock still buried deep, amused at the look of utter shock and arousal on the man now beneath him. He circles his thumb and forefinger around the base of Jensen's cock, holding as tight as he can without hurting him, and glides out.

“Mish, what… the… fu...what the fuck are you doing?” Each word punctuated with a gasp of breath.

“You're not coming yet, green eyed grasshopper,” Misha grins, “we'll both come, together, when I say it's time. Got it?”

Jensen's eyes roll into the back his head at Misha's authoritative tone. It's just so. Fucking. Hot. And if Misha didn't have a makeshift cockring around him at the moment, he would fucking come everywhere. _Jesus Christ why is he like this?_ Doesn't matter, he doesn't give a shit. He likes...nah, he _loves_ him like this. This is Dmitri. This is the one who tells him what he can and cannot do in bed, makes him suffer in the most incredible of ways, and only lets him come when _Dmitri_ says it's okay. Goddamn, it turns him on so much. So fucking much.

Misha slams back into him, pounding once, then twice, eliciting a growled, _“god-fucking-damn it,”_ from Jensen before pulling out again, licking into his mouth, and running his tongue from Jensen's chin down to his quivering abdomen. He lavishes Jensen's stomach with nips and kisses, fingers still clenched tightly around the base as his tongue circles Jen's navel and dips inside. Jensen's cock jumps with each touch of Misha lips to his skin, so he decides to give it some much needed attention.

_“Oh God, mmmmm, ffffuck, Mish,”_ Jensen moans and squirms as Misha kisses the head, licks from base to tip, and plunges it into his mouth, hollowing his his cheeks as he sucks, his tongue flattening against the thick, sensitive vein. Misha moans around the thickness, reaching down to stroke himself as Jensen's hands fly to Misha head, fingers tangling in the soft strands of his hair. Misha sucks up the length once more before popping his lips off and releasing his grip from Jensen's cock.

“Baby, please, _please_ ,” Jensen begs as Misha tongue-fucks his hole once again. Lips drag across his perineum and over his balls before Misha moves his body up to hover over Jensen's again.

“I fucking love your body, Jens. You're so beautiful. You're... almost too much.” Misha can feel himself getting emotional, which is what he usually does when he's this close to coming with Jensen. Also because he loves him and he's a big fucking sap.

Jensen swallows, eyes darting all over Misha's face. He feels it to. He loves his wife beyond words, but he loves this giant nerd too. “Come're,” he whispers, licking his lips, pulling Misha down for a tender, soft, passionate kiss that leaves them both panting. “I love everything about you, my Mishka.” He grins at the nickname, remembering when he told the whole world that he was as cute as a teddy bear.

Misha grips Jensen's knees and pushes them up, slowly easing back inside him with a long sigh and a rough intake of breath, he watches and waits for Jensen to nod. When he does, Misha begins to move. Long slow thrusts this time, pressing his lips to Jensen's jaw, his cheek, finally his mouth. The kiss mirrors the pace of his thrusts. Misha pulls back, only to watch the man beneath him. This is his favorite part. Jensen's head is pressed into the pillow, eyes screwed shut, mouth open with silent moans. Misha decides it's the most beautiful fucking sight in the world, and it's a shame the world can't see this.

Jensen tilts his hips and Misha falters because just that angle puts enough pressure on his dick to make him see stars. His thrusts become quicker, more erratic and he knows he doesn't have long. “Jens, baby, look at me… look at me,” he orders, and Jensen obeys. Green, lust-filled eyes, swimming with emotion stare at tumultuous ocean blues, and Misha nearly falls apart. He drops his head. “Fuck, Jensen, touch yourself, I'm so close. _Oh God,_ I'm so close.”

Jensen does as he's told, strokes himself until he's panting along with Misha. He reaches up, pulling Misha down to him, kissing him deeply, tasting him until he can't breathe. He breaks the kiss, their mouths continuing to touch as they breathe into each other. Jensen feels the heat coiling, building deep inside, and he strokes harder. Misha feels Jensen tightening around him, feels it in the base of his cock, and he moves faster.

“Jens, come...come for me... _fuck, I'm right there_ , just come.”

And Jensen does. He throws his head back with a strangled cry as he lets go, ropes of white spilling onto his chest and stomach. Misha thrusts once more before he unleashes a string of expletives, burying his face in Jensen's shoulder and emptying into him. A growled, _“fuck,”_ I'd punched from his chest as he feels every last drop being milked from him, before he collapses into Jensen's chest in a hot, sticky, magnificent mess.

 

***

 To Be Continued...

 


	2. Misha Broke The Internet..Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three large pizzas later - Jensen and Jared both opting for meat lovers, which makes Misha cry-laugh for five full minutes because he's a ‘perv from hell’ according to both boys, and Misha opting for some ‘disgusting kale shit’ according to Jared - they've made it through almost a bottle and a half of apple juice, and are discussing why Misha is obsessed with the queen of England.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of the shenanigans of these two adorable idiots, with a third adorable idiot added to the mix! Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Again, this is a work of fiction. No disrespect intended to any parties involved. (I just like to put Jared in precarious situations where he's forced to deal with his two gross best friends.)

 

 

When Jensen wakes, it's to the sound of incessant banging on the door of his trailer. Bleary-eyed, he looks at the glowing blue letters of the clock on his nightstand.

**11:30PM**

He's disoriented at first. He cocks his head up, realizing immediately that he's spooning Misha, who's curled up like a newborn baby in front of him, and they're on top of the comforter... completely naked. Also the goddamn light is burning holes into his eye sockets. Why the fuck didn't they at least turn the lights out when they went to bed? Also there's a piece of blue tape stuck to his cheek. What the fuck? And why the hell are they on _top_ of the comforter if they were going to be--

_Oh._

He looks around the bed. Tape everywhere. Literally everywhere, and it all comes back to him. Misha being ridiculous. Misha being more ridiculous. Misha being even more ridiculous and then sexy. Misha being ridiculous, sexy, and fucking _amazing_ in bed… as usual. He remembers them cleaning up, barely, and apparently they just fucking crashed because, judging by the sounds his stomach is making, they skipped dinner.

**_Bang bang bang_ **

“Jay! I know you're in there. The lights are on! Open up, man!”

Oh right. The thing that woke him up in the first place. That thing in the form of a giant man-child outside his door.

“Hang on! Jesus!” Jensen calls, stumbling out of bed and grabbing the first pair of pants he feels on the floor beneath him. Fuck it, he's going commando. He gets to the door, swinging it open with force, and watches in groggy amusement as Jared leaps off the top step to avoid getting pummelled. “What the hell, Jared? Where's the goddamn fire?”

“Nothing man, I just thou--” Jared stops mid-sentence taking his best friend in before shielding his eyes, huffing. “Jesus Christ, Jay, I can see the top of your pubes, my eyes are burning, could you please go put some pants on that fit you? Why the fuck are you wearing Misha's wardrobe pants anyway...oh,” he stops short when Jensen clears his throat.

It actually isn't until that moment that Jensen realizes he's put Misha's pants on, and yeah...they are hanging obscenely low on his hips. _Poor Jarpad_ , he snickers to himself.

“Come on, man, _gross!”_ Jared whines like a petulant child. Jensen smirks. Jared ought to know better than to come to his trailer in the middle of the night. It's not the first time this has happened by any means.

“It's not gross, Jare. It's a beautiful act of love between two people. Would you like details? See, Mish was covered in tape, and--”

“NOPE! Noooope, mm-mm, don't need details, thanks,” Jared shakes his head with force, his long hair flapping as he does. Jensen laughs.

“Alright, well, what's up, man?” Jensen’s tone sobers, suddenly noting a hint of sadness in Jared’s eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah,” Jared plays it off, “just got off the phone with Gen. I just…ya know, I miss her, and the kids,” he hesitates, looking off to the side then back at Jensen, “and I wanna drink. Was gonna see if you wanna drink, I mean and Misha of course, but if y'all are busy…”

Jensen rolls his eyes. Jared’s such a polite puppy, even when he's being an asshole, he's polite about it. He swings the door open wide. “Get your ass in here and shut the fuck up.” Jared’s answering smile and nod makes Jensen smile. He does love this fucker too, after all. “Let me just go wake up sleeping beauty, and put some actual clothes on.”

“Please,” Jared replies, not missing a beat. Jensen rolls his eyes again. Someday, they're gonna stick like that. He walks into the bedroom as he hears Jared's long body plop down onto the leather sofa.

“Mish,” Jensen whispers, crawling over to him on the bed. “Mish,” he says again, leaning over Misha's sleeping  form on his side, nosing at Misha’s ear, “Mish, wake up.” Misha swipes his hand sleepily, haphazardly in the air and groans in protest. Jensen tries hard not to let that sound go straight to his dick. _Jared's here. Jared is here,_ he repeats in his head. Instead he laughs and begins to bounce on all fours, jostling Misha in his slumber. “D-M-I-T-R-I!” he yells, “WAKE. THE. FUCK. UP!”

Misha bolts straight up in the bed, nearly knocking Jensen off of it, and glares at Jensen dangerously. Yeah, that's another thing Jensen tries not to let go to his dick, because fucking hell, Misha's hot when he's angry. “Goddamn it, Jensen, what the fuck?” he growls. “Is there a fire? Are our lives at risk? No? Otherwise I'd like to go BACK to SLEEP! I was dreaming about letting YOU fuck ME, you asshole.”

Jensen swallows, his jaw going slack because _fuck,_ “Shit.”

“Yeah…” Misha replies, running his hand through his wrecked hair.

“Um--”

“WELL THAT'S NOT SOMETHING I EXPECTED OR NEEDED TO HEAR! FUCKING GROSS!” Jared yells from the living room.

Misha's eyes go saucer-wide, shifting from the hallway back to Jensen’s sheepish face, staring in horror.

“Jared's here,” Jensen deadpans.

“You don't fucking say,” Misha retorts. He looks his own naked form over followed by Jensen's. “Well, this isn't awkward or anything. You answer the door like that?”

Jensen nods. “Yup.”

Misha snorts. “He vomiting yet?”

“Not yet.”

“We still have alcohol?”

“Indeed we do.” Jensen's grin is wide.

Misha nods, “Alright then. Let's get dressed and fucked up in a whole different way.” He reaches into one of Jensen’s drawers and pulls out two pair of sweats, tossing one at Jensen. “And take off my fucking pants. You look ridiculous.”

“Gee, thanks, ya dick.” Jensen scowls.

“I'm serious. They barely cover you. I'm surprised Jared's eyes aren't burned outta his skull.”

“Whatever, that's _your_ department, isn't it, angel?” Jensen says, pushing Misha's pants down his bow legs.

Misha pulls Jensen's ‘Family Business Beer Co.’ shirt he'd gotten out of another drawer over his head. “Oh fuck off, emotionally stunted hunter,” he replies. Jensen bites his tongue. Because _yes. Later._

“Jarpad!” Misha calls as he walks down the short hallway. He holds his arms out when he sees the moose, essentially dwarfing the trailer sofa. Jared laughs and jumps up, catching Misha in an embrace.

“Dude, you reek,” Jared coughs.

“Oh…yeah. That's Jensen's fault, sorry.” Misha smirks as Jared proceeds to make gagging sounds. “I think we need some pizza!” Misha exclaim, feeling his stomach growl as Jensen saunters into the room.

“Fuck yes, food,” Jensen agrees. “And apple juice.”

“And showers,” Jared glares pointedly at them both. Misha quirks an eyebrow in his direction. “Fuck you, Misha.” Misha's eyebrow reaches unprecedented levels, full on dom brow in effect as he matches Jared's stare. _“Separate_ showers, and I'm _not_ involved, Jesus Christ, Misha.”

Misha chuckles, then catches a bit of a jealous glower from Jensen. “Oh, come on, babe, I'm just teasing him.” He fists Jensen's t-shirt and pulls him in for a sloppy kiss that Jensen resists at first, but then melts into.

“Oh my fucking god, can y'all stop?” Jared gripes. “Twitter is right, y’all are fuckers.” Misha's eyebrow climbs once again to the top of his forehead and Jensen stifles a moan because…fucking reasons. Jared rolls his eyes at his own foot-in-mouth disease. “You know what I mean, damn it! And y'all better not do that shit while I'm eating. I'd like to keep my dinner down.”

Misha salutes sarcastically. “Yes Sir, captain Jared.” Jensen snorts, and Jared tilts his head, furrowing his brow in perfect confused puppy dog style. This earns a loud guffaw from Jensen and further furrowed brow from Jared, putting him dangerously into Castiel territory, so Misha takes pity on him and explains. “Twitter also thinks you're captain of the ship that is Jensen and myself, aka Cockles, aka ‘Jared's captain of the USS Cockles’ based on the shit you say or let slip, rather, at cons.”

Jared blinks. Twice.

“Oh. Well. I guess?” The two of them just stare back at him. “Okay fine. I have a big mouth. Whatever. You know I love y'all, and this,” he waves toward them, “just refrain from making out in front of my goddam pizza, alright?”

Jensen and Misha laugh, and kiss again, this time with tongue just to spite him, both stumbling backward as he jumps off the couch and shoves them.

…

Three large pizzas later - Jensen and Jared both opting for meat lovers, which makes Misha cry-laugh for five full minutes because  he's a ‘perv from hell’ according to both boys, and Misha opting for some ‘disgusting kale shit’ also according to Jared - they've made it through almost  a bottle and a half of apple juice, and are discussing why Misha is obsessed with the queen of England.

“She intrigues me, I dunno,” Misha says to the ceiling, trying to put his finger on _why_ that statement is true.

“She's not even attractive, man,” Jensen replies around a mouthful of pizza.

“What he said,” Jared adds, a slightly drunk tinge to his tone.

“She's mildly attractive,” Misha says, a little offended for her majesty, if he's being honest. At both of their stares of disbelief, he replies again, “okay she's not, but you both know I don't give a shit about that. It's what's inside that matters to me.” He shrugs. “I'd like to see what makes her tick.”

“Okay that's just gross, _Mishka_ ,” Jared laughs, referencing one of Jensen's pet names. “You realize you're on Supernatural, not Dexter, right?”

“Fuck off, Jared, you know what I mean.”

Jared nudges Jensen's shoulder, eyelids drooping drunkenly, and he giggles. “Can you imagine him as Dexter?”

Jensen glares slightly at his little brother from another mother. “Dude. He played Lucifer, for fuck sake, fucking amazingly, I think he’d have done just fine as Dexter.”

“Thank you, Jens!” Misha blue eyes narrow at Jared and he keeps them trained on the big jerk as he pulls Jensen in for another kiss.

“Aw, man, come on! I told you none of that shit while I'm eating!”

Jensen laughs as Misha grins, smug, “that was before you started talking shit about my acting skills, Moose.”

“Touche’,” Jared admits. “But you know I think you're fucking awesome, man,” a little emotion sneaking into his tone. So because Misha's an asshole, he decides to lighten the mood.

“Besides that, why do we always have to talk about my shit? Huh? I mean, we never talk about Jared's sex tape, so…”

Jensen chokes on his whiskey and nearly topples over with laughter as Jared's mouth falls open and his eyes narrow.

“Hey, that was never proven to be me!” he exclaims.

“Did you let Paris Hilton film you while you jacked yourself off?” Misha trains his features into the most serious, interrogating face he can muster, given the subject matter.

Jensen is now crying into the carpet.

Jared just glowers at him.

“I'm waiting for an answer, Jared Padalecki.” Misha's face still deadly serious. Jensen howling with laughter.

“Due to statute 473.285 of the city of Vancouver, British Columbia, I refuse to answer that question, Mr. Krushnic.”

“That doesn't exist, but okay, Padalecki,” Misha replies through his own laughter. “That’s what I thought.” Jensen's taken to beating his palm against the carpet. He sits up, wipes his eyes,  his body still shaking with laughter.

“Regardless of what I did in my early fucking twenties, Mish, you're still the weird one,” Jared chuckles. “I’d like to see some of _your_ sex tapes.”

“No you wouldn't,” Misha says, quirking that eyebrow again, “they would scare you.”

Jensen's crying into the carpet  again.

The rest of the night consists of more apple juice, a little bit of beer, and just fucking with each other per the usual. Trading insults, in the most loving of ways, of course, and stories.

Jensen sucks Misha off in the bedroom, one hand over Misha's mouth to keep him quiet - which turns Misha on even more to be quite honest - while Jared snores, sprawled out on the sofa in the living room, one long leg propped up over the back, the other hanging down to the floor. Misha returns the favor, eating Jensen's ass while jacking his cock until Jensen comes all over Misha's hand, and, after a quick clean up, they're both passed out in a tangle of arms, legs and Jensen’s wrecked comforter.  

The next morning comes too soon, but it's not as early as the previous morning’s call, for which they are all three immensely grateful. Ibuprofen is popped before heading to the makeup trailer, then it’s off to wardrobe, where Misha dresses in his usual Castiel garb and Jared and Jensen put on their age-old Winchester flannels.

Filming goes the same route it always does: Jensen fucking ruthlessly with Misha, blowing kisses, wiggling eyebrows; Jared grabbing body parts he doesn't need to be grabbing and dancing around (always with the dancing), Misha rolling his eyes, telling them both how much he hates them. At one point, Misha decides to screw with everyone and replies to Jensen, who's trying to suggest that Cas fight back just a little, “Cas would never fight back from Dean shoving him against the wall because CAS knows that DEAN wants Cas to fuck him!”

Jensen has to walk out of the room from laughing so hard and Amanda Tapping, along with everyone else in the room, rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

Halfway through an early lunch, Misha decides to post the “sex tape” picture on twitter and laughs as his phone immediately blows up.

**Congratulations, Misha Collins, you've broken the internet,** one commenter says.

**Misha, no,** another says, followed by someone else, **Misha, yes.**

Those may or may not be his favorite.

The comments just make him laugh yet again at the texts he received from both Vicki and Dani the night before:

**My Queen <You guys are fucking ridiculous. Lol. I love you too. And no, you're never hearing the end of this. Call me tomorrow. You need to have a talk with a certain child named West about not chasing after his sister saying he's a vampire.**

**Dackles <OMFG, I fucking love you! Give J a kiss for me, and don't freak poor Jared out! I'm calling Vick right now! **

“Dude, your twitter is outta control already,” Jensen chuckles, sliding up next to Misha at the table. “Did you check it?”

“Duh,” Misha replies, “It's like that every day.”

“So don't post so much, you ‘attention whore’,” Jensen air quotes, laughing.

“Fuck off, Jackles, or I'll get you off in front of everyone. You know I can do it with just a flick of my wrist.”

“Who says I don't want that,” Jensen growls into Misha's ear.

Misha squeezes his fork. “Don’t temp me, fucker.”

“Dude! Misha! Your Twitter is cracking me up, man,” Jared plops in the chair flanking misha on the opposite side.  _ Saved by the Jarpad _ , Misha thinks.

“People fucking love me, Jared. I am the overlord, after all.”

Jared laughs. His phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, laughing again and turning the screen so that Misha can see the text from Gen:

**Baby <Misha is crazy! Lol! Tell him I love him and miss him.**

Misha smiles. “I fucking love your wife, too.”

Jared mock glares and tucks his phone back into his pocket. “Keep your mitts off my wife, Collins. It was bad enough when you stole her from me in England!”

Jensen rolls his eyes because... here we go. These two will be jabbing at each other over this for hours.

“She loved it. Kept commenting about how  strong my arms were. Ask her.”

“Fuck you, man, I will  _ not _ ask her that.”

“I'm just saying if you want the truth, ask her how much she enjoyed that ride.”

“Why are you like this?”

“That's what everyone asks me, but I  _ suppose _ I could ask you the same thing, couldn’t I?”

“I hate you.” Jared grins.

“I love you too, Padalecki.”

“Keep your hands off my wife.”

“Oh for fuck sake, I don't need to bone everyone's wives, Jared, Jesus.”

“I'm just saying…”

“Well stop.”

“How about the both of you fucking stop. Dee’s calling me.” Jensen stands up and pulls his own phone out of his pocket. “Hey baby!” he answers on the second buzz.  _ Such a sap _ , Misha lovingly thinks. Jensen rolls his eyes for about the tenth time today. “I know. I saw. Yeah he did too. You wanna talk to him? Okay hang on” Jensen shoves the phone toward Misha. “She wants to talk to you. I dunno why the fuck she didn't just call you directly,” he pouts.

Misha grins, devilishly. “Don't  be a baby, Jens, I'll give her right back,” and he winks, putting the phone to his ear. “ _ Hey _ beautiful!”

“Mish, I've been laughing for ten minutes straight, I think you need your head examined!” Danneel exclaims, and yes, she's still laughing.

“So I've been told. But I have no idea what you're referring to, Dani.” He smiles at Jensen, who's  _ yep _ rolling his eyes.

“Oh don’t pull that shit with me, the comments on your Twitter post are killing me. My friends are all calling me laughing their asses off, you are a hot mess,” she giggles.

“Hot, yes. Mess? Always,” Misha replies, smiling fondly at the table.

“Okay, I love your crazy ass. Now gimme back to my hubby before he combusts, I can feel it through the phone.”

Misha laughs because Dani’s as intuitive as Vicki is. “Okay, bye beautiful.” He hands the phone back to Jensen, who is, in fact, pouting.

They talk for a few minutes before Jensen playfully huffs again, “yeah…yeah okay! I'll tell him! I swear you too are ridiculous. Love you too, baby. Let me talk to JJ?” He looks over at Misha and mouths ‘jackass’ at him, which makes Misha chortle. “Hey, Princess! What are you up to?” he addresses his little girl. Misha and Jared both smile at each other. He's definitely a big, giant sap. “Well Arrow’s a princess too, but your daddy's first princess. You helping mommy today? I know! I saw,” he narrows his eyes at Misha, “Uncle Misha  _ is _ silly. Why are you looking at his Twitter? Tell mommy I think his Twitter might be a little too silly for you.” Jensen laughs. “Okay, sweetheart, I'll tell them. I love you all the way around Texas. Give the babies kisses from daddy.” Jensen presses ‘end’ and sighs. “JJ says to tell Uncle Misha and Uncle Jared she loves you both.” There's a sad, distant look in his eyes, and Misha reaches his hand over to caress Jensen’s thigh.

“We love her back,” Jared says.

“And we love you, Jens,” Misha adds, planting a quick kiss to Jensen's temple.

Jensen leans his head on Misha's shoulder. “Me too.”

Jared snorts and gags once more, shaking his shaggy head. “Good god, y'all are so gross.”

The end.

 


End file.
